


dog teeth

by dreadfulbeauties



Category: The Red Shoes (1948)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Suicide, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Relationships, because i am a pretentious little gremlin who reads too many fairytales, bizarre teeth metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadfulbeauties/pseuds/dreadfulbeauties
Summary: If she were to get a glimpse inside of Boris' heart, she'd find a dog there. A dog that commands him to tear everything he knows to shreds.
Relationships: Boris Lermontov/Victoria Page
Kudos: 4





	dog teeth

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off the song "dog teeth" by nicole dollanganger. while the song itself is a metaphor for sexual assault, this is not what happens in the story - if you are easily upset by the topic of sexual assault, you have nothing to worry about here. i'm simply using it as a metaphor for boris playing general mind games with vicky -

The red shoes are pliers.

When Victoria is handed those pliers that first opening night — her hair brushed and sprayed, brushes tipped in eyeliner gliding over her face — she flexes them in her hand. They are deceptive, those shoes: Lined in fine red silk, with ribbons that she ties up past her ankles. But they are pliers, too, sharp in her hands and firm with the hard material on the inside that cramps around her feet.

Victoria is not sure if Boris is giving her a challenge when he hands her those pliers tipped in red. He wants her to pull out his teeth. She percieves that much. But she doesn’t know why.

Why do you want me to force open your mouth to keep you from biting down on my fingers, plucking out your teeth with those pliers one by one? She thinks. Is it because you know about the teeth marks you will leave, like when you asked me why I wanted to dance and I asked you why you want to live? Or is it a challenge, because no matter how much I try to angle my hand in order to rip out your teeth you’ll bite down on me anyways?

She does not know. But dance she does, and dance she must. She twirls about on stage, the full skirt of her costume billowing out beyond her waist and legs. Her arms tilt up into the air, shoes (pliers) a blur of red on the edge of the stage. For the eleven or so minutes that she spends on stage, Victoria does not perform ballet — she is ballet. There’s nothing other than her and the red shoes, fitting her so perfectly as the glass slipper must have fit on Cinderella.

Even though she doesn’t use the pliers — she’s traveled this far, she can’t turn back — Boris still bites.

Teeth scrape through skin and draw blood. Beneath the cold layers of that sunken, beating heart is a dog. There’s a dog that tells Boris to tear others to shreds because there is no other way they will learn without blood and tears. She doesn’t shy away from him because she knows this much. Victoria knew the risks, but she knew and still knows _why_ she wants to dance.

It’s different with Julian. There is something lacking, but that something lacking feels almost soft compared to Boris. It’s not so much the addition of anything as it is the removal. The removal, where there are only faint pink scars where fresh bitemarks littered along her arms should be, where the dog teeth have been plucked out, is a respite. 

Said respite is not so much of that for Boris, though.

Methodically, he approaches her on the train. He stands out amidst the green of that train, the subject of some painting left unfinished. He hollows her out, sinks teeth into skin again because that _lacking_ is what is separating Victoria from dance. With Julian, she’s just a performer. 

She picks up her pliers again, prepared to dance until she bleeds into her shoes. Julian turns her back on her because she chose to be hollow. As hollow as Boris is.

It’s just towards the end that Victoria wonders if there’s a dog that occupies her heart, too. She doesn’t want to choose, never wanted to choose — the pliers were a trap.

She dances one last time when she leaps off the balcony. And as she lets go of the pliers — no more dancing, no more dog teeth biting — she can’t help but marvel at the blueness of the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> half of me wants to see the dumpster fire disaster train wreck that boris and victoria's relationship could evolve into, and the other half wants to found the "victoria page needs a hug and a nap" club.
> 
> ...alright, maybe i overstated or generalized the very interesting dynamic between boris and vicky by referring to it as a "dumpster fire disaster train wreck". their relationship has far too much depth to be reduced to a "dumpster fire disaster train wreck" as i so eloquently referred to it as :]
> 
> at the time of posting this, it's rather late for me. but i am proud of what i've written, even though it's very short. i took a film class earlier this summer and my instructors, knowing my love of musical movies and ballet, recommended this film to me. to no one's surprise, i loved it and it's now one of my favorite films are all time (i say one of, because nothing will ever top the entirety of judy garland's filmography for me). i've talked with my film class about how it seems that boris is jealous of julian which acts as a motivation for his actions, but it was something that i didn't pick up on till rewatching the movie (and that's because a lot of these interactions and moments fly over my head.)
> 
> whoops, i'm rambling. time to close this and get some sleep. thank you all for reading, comments are appreciated. take care of yourself and please stay safe <3


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